A boy of 10 was doing acrobatics in his roller shoes on the marble floors of the Marina Mall, one of the largest shopping centres in Abu Dhabi, the capital of the United Arab Emirates (UAE). In the gallery above, his father, wearing the traditional Emirates white kandura, leaned over the balustrade and called to him in Arabic to come up quickly. The boy ignored him and continued to imitate westerners on the adjoining ice rink. Irritated, the father threatened punishment and confiscation of the roller shoes, but in English. This time the child obeyed immediately. The father said to his friends: “This is what has happened with English! When I speak to him in Arabic, he pretends he doesn’t understand!”

Once they had left, some Emirati men sitting nearby commented. “That’s how it is in many families,” said Jalal al-Sultan, a businessman from Dubai. “We no longer know if our children are from here or if they’re turning into American or English kids who can’t express themselves properly in Arabic. It’s worrying. It is making us rethink our educational system. It’s a matter of saving our national identity.” Youssef al-Aisa, a federal civil servant, added that English is often presented as the solution to all the Emirates’ problems. “Some jokers even claim that the muezzin will soon be obliged to call to prayer in English – with an Oxford accent!”

Since 2008, National Identity Year, the debate on the use of English has gripped the Emirates. It is sometimes virulent and pits those who want the country to open up to the world and claim that the use of English in education is a prerequisite for modernisation, against those who believe that it would be detrimental to Emirate, Arab and Muslim identity.

In November 2009 Abdul Aziz al-Ghurair, speaker of the Federal National Council (a consultative body, half of whose members are now elected), delivered a clear message to journalists gathered to celebrate the 38th anniversary of the UAE’s foundation. “We are an open society, but (...)